


Don't Forget Me In The Darkness

by MadMenagerie



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt, Tragedy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:46:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadMenagerie/pseuds/MadMenagerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soul is slowly losing his sanity and his memory of his meister fades along with it. Can he keep holding on to her and remember who he is before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Don't Know Me, But I Remember You

**Author's Note:**

> There will be spoilers for chapter 110 of the manga later on in the story so if you haven't read it I'm warning you now. Enjoy

In the darkness the man laughed, though he couldn't remember why. He didn't remember how long he'd been wandering these shadowy, desolate streets and alleyways, though it felt like an eternity. He ran a hand along the crumbling red bricks of a rundown building as he staggered down the sidewalk, the dim glow of the moonlight elongating his features. Occasionally he moved his head from side to side, catching blurred glimpses of people bustling around him and he laughed again. He vaguely witnessed an older man from the thin group of onlookers walk toward him and stopped to focus on the face in front of him, cocking his head of dirty long white hair weightily to the side to listen. He could see the man's mouth moving but the sounds were broken and hazy. This was unusual for him; he hadn't heard anyone's voice but hers in a long time. Usually they stayed away from him but every so often a kind hearted stranger would stop and ask his name to see if he needed help.

He answered the man's apparent question with a sharp, crazed grin; his shark-like teeth glinting in the light of the moon. What was his name again? Soul, that's right. His feet wavered slightly as if drunk and he broke into a fit of hysterical giggles. What a stupid name he had. Did he even have one of those? A soul? If he did, he sure as hell couldn't feel it. His laughter ceased abruptly and his face fell into a deep scowl as he heard someone call that name. He looked around, snarling at the man and the other people collected on the street; trying to determine whose voice it was. For some reason it made him angry, it made him furious.

" _Sooooouuuul…"_ There it was again, and he turned around violently. The world seemed to spin around him, the colors of the street and people staring blurred as he whirled around in circles, looking for where the voice was coming from. A low, frustrated growl rumbled in his throat and he clawed at his hair. He felt disoriented and dizzy; the sound of her calling his name came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The man and other pedestrians backed away as he panicked, leaving him with nervous and concerned glances and he watched them with confused and abandoned eyes. Had he done something to make them leave? Guilt from somewhere tore at his chest and he ran away from the more populated area, not stopping until he stood in the middle of a dark abandoned warehouse where the sound of his shoes drying scuffling against the concrete floor and the heaving of his chest were the only things he heard.

The memory of the voice that seemed to chase him wherever he went bothered him. Why did it sound so familiar? It was light, melodic, happy, and… Maka's? The shock of realization weakened his knees and he fell to them on the dusty floor of the deserted structure, his eyes wide and unfocused, staring into nothingness. Her voice hit his senses again and he closed his eyes, smiling weakly with a trembling jaw and slack shaking hands at his sides as the memories of her washed over him. There she was, smiling at him as they sat together on a couch. She had a book in her hand. And he was there too, teasing her. She pouted playfully and he laughed. She was pretending to be mad, but he knew her. He saw the slight upturn in the corners of her mouth as she scowled and the barely noticeable softness in her furrowed eyebrows. He took her book and she glared at him. He poked her and she broke into a grin. He tackled her and she gasped. He ticked her and she laughed. His meister, with her glossy ash blonde hair, and her bright green sparkling eyes; God he loved her.

These were the moments he felt alive again; the moments he heard her, the moments he saw her, the moments he felt her. He dropped from his knees, sitting and sliding as he lied down on the dirty floor and let the images of her envelop him. He stared up at the ceiling with round misty eyes as he watched her cook. The way the apron fit around her tiny waist, the sound of her humming to herself as she stirred, the aroma of spices and herbs in the air. He reached out and she smacked his hand lightly with the wooden spoon and scolded him for not being patient. He grumbled something and she turned and winked at him, assuring him it would be done soon. He didn't feel the tears leaking out of his eyes as he lied there, but they streamed down the sides of his face and dropped into the dust on the floor, creating small dark circles in the grime. It was dank and drafty; the concrete hard and cold against his arms and back. His thin t-shirt did nothing to shield him from the elements, and he shivered as he stared into the ceiling with memory clouded eyes. Nothing else mattered in the world to him but the movie of her playing in his head.

These moments were the only solace he had left, like small sips of cool water after walking so long through the desert of his mind. The memory of who she was. He couldn't remember who he was without it. When he saw her he felt like himself again; happier, cleaner, and cool. He blinked, another tear sliding down the side of his temple and into the dirt, the scene changing with it. It was dark outside and they had watched something scary. He grinned as she nervously bit her bottom lip, she didn't want to tell him she was scared. She had nothing to be scared of, he would protect her. Silly little meister, so stubborn, he would always protect her. He crept up behind her and jumped. She screamed. He laughed. She grabbed a book and swung it down on him. On the outside he laughed at himself, his low tremulous voice echoing off the cavernous space, he should have known she would chop him for that. She whined about him scaring her and he stood. He felt himself ruffle the top of her head. He remembered the words he said. _Don't be scared stupid. Nothing's going to get you with me here. That wouldn't be cool at all._

The memory faded, dematerializing into the thin wisps of darkness. With it being over he closed his eyes again, swallowing the lump in his throat. Exhaustion grasped at his body and mind, dragging him down and wrapped up in these fragments of sanity he let himself sleep.


	2. Who Are We, Where Do We Belong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be spoilers for chapter 110 of the manga later on in the story so if you haven't read it I'm warning you now. Enjoy.

Blood coated his palms as he clenched his fists tightly, digging his nails in deep until he felt the sharp bite of pain when they broke the skin. He uncurled them sorely and looked down at them with bitter disgust, then dragged them down the front of his dirty, tattered shirt smearing black blooded handprints on the fabric. He looked around with worried eyes and chewed on his already chapped lips. He felt like something was wrong, something important, but no matter how he tried he couldn't determine what. He scanned his eyes around his surroundings, not recognizing where he was. He was tired and dirty, cold and confused. He desperately wanted to believe it wasn't always like this, that he had a home and was happy. Day dreams of him being somewhere else; somewhere nice with a bed, and a kitchen, and a girl. It seemed to be only a fairytale his worn mind had conjured to keep him from giving up, but something in his heart told him it was real.

Where was that place though, he clenched his fists again. Why wasn't he there now? He didn't understand how he got here. Did something happen to the place with the girl? Did something happen to the girl? The thoughts of her flashed in his mind and his chest tightened on its own. He lost his footing slightly, his shoulder running into a wall, but he kept on walking and searching. How long had he been searching? How long since he was at that comfortable place he dreamed about? He only had vague memories of that girl and that house, a school and a smile.

His chest ached now and he shoved those questions to the deep recesses of his soul, focusing on the people around him. Sometimes he liked to play a game, as he walked past people staring at him. He looked right at them, grinning his pointed sharp teeth widely to scare them. It was a great source of fun to him to see their reactions. He put his finger against one until it bled, why did he have sharp teeth like this? Was he a monster, he suddenly burst into deep laughter mid-stride, maybe. But if he was, why was he with that girl before? Nothing made sense anymore and he frowned deeply, looking around again. Where was he now? Was he in the same place he was before─ far away from the nice place and the girl? Was he walking in circles? It didn't matter anyway; he just had to keep his feet moving until he remembered why he felt so wrong, he had to walk until he remembered where the girl was. She looked nice; it bothered him that he couldn't remember.

He stopped dead in mid-stride as something across the street caught his eye. There was a café he'd never seen before or at least that he recalled. There was a girl sitting at an outside table; she had pigtails and in her hands she held an open book. She looked like the girl, could she be her? He noticed the pounding of his feet against the pavement with an urgency he couldn't quite explain. He reached out for her, grasping her arm tightly. He was unexplainably terrified his hand would go right through her and that she'd be nothing more than a ghost in his mind. But it had not, and the girl cried out, dropping her book as his fingers pressing into her arm.

"Maka?" He looked into the girl's brown eyes like a confused child. That was her name right? Did he get it right? It felt right, but he wasn't sure. The girl looked at him in complete terror and screamed. He pulled his hand away from her like he'd just been burned. Why was she scared? Maybe he was a monster after all; who else would have red eyes, sharp teeth and black blood? She scrambled to get away from him as a collection of people gathered to see what the commotion was. He growled angrily at the girl that wasn't the 'Maka-girl', turned around, and ran away frustrated and confused. He ran until he found a dark alleyway, leaning his back against the wall and sliding down until he was sitting with his knees pulled into his chest. Everything felt wrong and he didn't understand why. He knows he used to see her but it's been so long. All he wanted was her to appear again, to guide him again. He rocked back and forth curled into a little ball and screamed. Why can't he remember?! He bent over and screamed painfully into his knees again, his ragged breaths turning from screams of frustration into sobs of confusion and loneliness.

"Stop it Soul." He looked up suddenly at the familiar female voice that interrupted his cries. Who was she talking to? He looked around but there was no one else in the deserted alley. Was she talking to him? Was he this 'Soul' person? He had to be. "Stop it, I'm trying to study." The girl complained. His mouth twitched upwards slightly. He recognized that voice, it was her voice. He felt calmer with the girl nearby, even if he couldn't see her. He tentatively reached his arm out in front of him and into the dark alley. "Don't pull my pigtail Soul!" The girl whined and he laughed into the nothingness around him.

"Maka?" He questioned, the name sounded foreign on his trembling lips and wavering voice. He squeezed his eyes shut holding the heels of his hands down on them, trying to grasp at the fragments of what she looked like. Her pigtails were…. Brown, or were they more blonde? Her eyes; he knew that, they were green, the best color green he'd ever seen. She was his… his….what? He couldn't remember that part. He let out a choked breath and wiped his face. When had he last seen her? That's right; he'd been sleeping some time ago. He saw her then. He wanted to see her again now. He didn't understand why she meant so much to him but he was desperate for her. He relaxed his head back into the stone side of a building and let unconsciousness take over, dreaming of the girl with the pigtails, her laugh, and her bright green eyes.


	3. How Do I Fix It, How Do I Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be spoilers for chapter 110 of the manga later on in the story so if you haven't read it I'm warning you now. Enjoy.

He sat in a corner of a warehouse giggling madly for hours. Look what he’d discovered! A flash of blue light and his arm was a large black and red blade. Had he always been able to do this? He cackled again at it and dragged it across his forearm, watching the black blood trickle down his skin and drip to the floor. It was so sharp he wanted to use it. He thinks he’s used it before but he doesn’t know where or when. The flash of blue came back and his arm was his arm again. He inspected it with a wide grin, turning his hand over and back, flexing his fingers and wiggling them as if it hadn’t been glinting steel and metal a moment before. Now it was just a hand and it sent him into a fit of hysterics. He switched it back and forth, back and forth, over and over, the flashes of blue illuminating his features as he marveled at his seemingly new skill. An image flashed in his mind of blonde and green and a small frown but he didn’t care what it meant. He was a child with a new toy. And he wanted to play.

He shakily stood and laughed again, this time it was biting and bitter.  His breath heaving increasingly as he grew angry. There was a reason he was angry right? That image of a girl he didn’t know; the smell of blood. That was what made him angry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rip something apart. He wanted the images of this strange girl out of his mind. Her eyes haunted him, transforming from happy and bright green to dull, mossy, and blank. He hated it. Why did he see these things? He didn’t even know this girl! No matter how he tried he couldn’t escape the rage and despair he felt when he saw her, and the blinding rage when he saw the man behind it all.

The first time it had happened he was confused. He had seen the mysterious girl in his dreams but never with this cold menacing stranger laughing in the background. He realized after seeing it repeat itself over and over that this guy was the reason the girl stopped smiling, the reason her eyes grew dark and distant. And for that he must be killed, he was determined to do it. He wanted to kill this man with every fiber of his being. He didn’t care who he was. The strange girl mattered more than anything and he had to save her. His anger bubbled into a blinding tirade and he stalked the streets with furious intensity, using his transformed arm to smash beams and debris wherever he found it as he walked. He searched for the man with the long black and white hair and the strange eye shaped marking on his forehead.

He made his way through every alleyway and every rundown building, all the dark corners he could find for the man that hurt the pigtailed girl who haunted him. He heard a shrill cry of terror and stopped, turning to a sprint in that direction; the man must be hurting that girl some more. He will not let him get away with it anymore. He walked up to the source of the commotion with a sadistic and eager grin. There he was, the man with the scarves, the man with the eyes, the man who hurt the girl. He scraped his blade shrilly against the concrete wall as he walked up to him, grabbing the man by the shirt. The girl who had been trapped there screamed again, not knowing what to make of this newcomer but quickly ran away as her captor was distracted.

“What the- Who are you?” The man asked in fear, having not expected to be apprehended so late into the dark night, and he struggled against the grip Soul had on his shirt. He seemed inhumanly strong and demonic with his hate filled glowing red eyes and sharp grinning teeth and he pushed the man against the wall, laughing darkly. ‘Who was he?’ the enemy had asked.  He surely didn’t know. All he knew was the girl and the man that had hurt her. 

“I’m the person who is going to make you pay.” Came is scratchy, underused voice.  “You hurt the girl and now you have to die.” The cowardly man argued that the girl had gotten away, no harm done, but he knew the truth.  He wouldn’t be manipulated by the illusions of this trickster’s games; he wouldn’t be convinced of his innocence when he watched those images every day.

“You hurt the girl with the green eyes!” He snarled angrily, spitting his words in the man’s face. The man had no idea what this lunatic was talking about, he’d never raped a girl with green eyes; yet. The man tried to tell him he was mistaken, his voice wavering into a pleading whine, but Soul was already raising his blade. 

“Please! What did I do?” The man begged, and he stopped his motion before it cleaved the guy in two. He growled dangerously in hesitation, he couldn’t remember exactly. What had the scarved man done again? He held his bladed arm poised over the man’s neck as he tried to think; the girl, the man, him, his red and black blade, fighting, and then... Soul’s eyes shot open as it all came flooding back. 


End file.
